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But as Rowland sprang to the helm, and gave the signal for pursuit, a roar like a volley of ordnance was heard aloft, and the wind again burst its bondage. ‘Come, cry a truce. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. She did not twitch. . Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled.
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